


Handmaiden's Quest

by spnblargh



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Cosplay, Episode: s08e11 LARP and the Real Girl, F/F, LARPing, M/M, Moondor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-23
Updated: 2015-05-23
Packaged: 2018-03-31 20:25:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3991600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spnblargh/pseuds/spnblargh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>During a weekend of LARPing, Charlie manages to lose her phone. As it turns out, that means good things for Dean.</p><p>Prompt: "Hi, I found this phone in the train, and your number was the last one this person called. Am I speaking to HandmaiDean?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Handmaiden's Quest

**Author's Note:**

> spasticsamurai gave me the prompt: "Hi, I found this phone in the train, and your number was the last one this person called. Am I speaking to HandmaiDean?"

"Handmaiden, we're running short on water bottles and pop tarts. With your permission, may I travel to the land of Corner Shopica and obtain more supplies?"

Dean stares at the man in front of him, his expression deadpan. "I'm a knight," he says bluntly. Come on, he's wearing chainmail, for god's sake. "The right hand of the Queen, in case you forgot."

"Of course, sir!" The man ― well, a 16-year-old kid, really ― snaps to attention. "My apologies, sir."

"It's alright," Dean waves him off. "Go, fetch your supplies. Although I shotgun those pop tarts, y'hear?"

"Absolutely, sir!" He gives him an embellished salute and a half-bow, half-courtesy before bounding out of the tent.

Dean sighs, slumping down into the throne. His brother, Sam, pokes his head into the tent. His ponytail is as tiny and ridiculous as it was when they were getting ready this morning. The paint on his face has already started to fade. 

"Uh, Dean? You ready for the next request?"

"How many more do I have?"

Sam parts the tent flap, revealing a queue of about ten or fifteen people, all adorned in various flavours of armour or tattered cloth. Dean slumps forward onto the table, groaning.

"Any luck finding Charlie yet?"

"Nope," Dean replies, his words muffled against the tabletop. He jerks upright, scrubbing a hand across his jaw. "If I had, she'd be the one stuck here instead of me. Alright," he claps his hands together, rolls his shoulders. "Send in the next victim!"

Dean's in the same position two hours later, listening non-stop to a bunch of fictional requests. It's part of the game, he knows this, so he tries to be a good sport about it. He keeps his grumpy remarks between him and Sam, and fixes a bright smile on his face whenever dealing with his people. Or, well, Charlie's people. If she ever comes back, that is.

He demands a lunch break around two and leaves the tent, hanging a _Her Royal Highness Slumbers, Do Not Disturb_ sign on the entrance flap. Sam abandons his post and follows him.

"I'm starting to get worried," Sam mutters, careful to keep Charlie's MIA status between them. "You think you should call again?"

"That's what I'm thinking," Dean says, stepping into the designated Tech Tent. There are gaming geeks all around them, playing some form of MMO. Dean observes the people playing LoL with disgust ― seriously, it's fun, but is it worth the hate? ― before pulling out his mobile from a pocket cleverly concealed within his armour. 

With Sam hanging around anxiously, Dean dials Charlie. He curses when it rings out and goes to voicemail. "Well, I'm out of ideas," he declares.

"Do you think...something happened?"

"Oh come on, enough of that," Dean says, swatting his brother impatiently. "This isn't like those crappy murder-mystery books you _'just can't put down'_ , Sam."

"I don't mean that," Sam huffs indignantly. "I just mean, you know, her mom's been in and out of hospital recently, so maybe...?"

"Yeah, but she would have said something, surely." Dean frowns thoughtfully. "I mean, she's glued to her phone. Why wouldn't she pick up? It just doesn't―"

At that moment, Dean's phone starts buzzing. "Huh," he says, staring at the screen. "Here she is now. Yo," he greets, turning away from Sam. "Where the hell are you?"

There's an awkward pause before someone with a very deep, very masculine voice says, "Uh, am I speaking to Handmai-Dean?"

Dean blinks, checks the caller ID, and then presses the phone back against his ear. "Uh, yeah? Wait, who is this?" He waves off Sam's inquisitive face. "This is Charlie's phone, right?"

"Oh, I'm not sure whose phone this is. I just called the first person on their Recents list. I found your friend's phone on the train."

Dean sighs, his body sagging. "Right, that's why I haven't been able to get in contact with her all day. Say, you wouldn't happen to be near Oxford Fairgrounds, would you?"

"I'm about fifteen minutes away."

"Uh, sorry to be a pain, but could you meet me around there? I can meet you halfway. There's that massive outlet store next to _Starbucks_ , which is kinda near a _GameStop_ ―"

"Yes, I know that street. Shall we meet outside _GameStop_?"

"Yeah, sounds good."

"Alright. Uh, how will we know each other...?"

"Oh, you'll know. I'm the one in chainmail," Dean says, chuckling. "Keep an eye out for a knight in shining armour."

A huff of laughter. "Alright. See you soon."

Dean hangs up, and is met with wide, confused eyes. "Charlie lost her phone."

"Right," Sam says, rolling his eyes affectionately. "How am I not surprised?"

Dean prods him in the chest, raising his eyebrows. "I'll take care of this. You man the throne room."

"But Dean," Sam immediately starts whining, so Dean marches out of the tent before he can finish protesting. The tent flaps angrily behind him, and he smirks when he sees Sam stalking back to Charlie's tent where there's already a long queue waiting for him. Sam snags poor Kevin Tran on his way past, who's apparently now on guard duty. What a mess.

It only takes about ten minutes for him to reach _GameStop_ , although he's stuck waiting around for another ten. He's surrounded by the  _Commoners_ , as Charlie likes to call them: people not indoctrinated into Moondor. _Yes_ , he's in armour, it's quirky and all, but could people make an effort to stare a little more subtly?

He receives a couple of taps on his shoulder, and when he turns around he's stunned to find an incredibly attractive man standing before him. He's not sure if it's the dark hair, the blue eyes, or the plump, pink lips, but whoever gave birth to this man was clearly playing god with the gene pool. Hot  _damn_.

Instantaneously he's rendered speechless. "U-uh..." Dean tries to smirk, throw on a flirty smile, but it's as if he's suddenly fifteen years old again, trying to ask out Aaron Bass to prom. "Er, hi there."

"Hello," the man says simply, squinting curiously. "Are you Handmai-Dean?"

Dean's cheeks grow warm. Damn it, Charlie. Stop giving him lame nicknames. "Most people just call me Dean, actually." 

"Right. Dean, then," the man acknowledges with a small smile. He procures a phone from his pocket, one which undoubtedly belongs to Charlie. The long-ass keychain with dozens of cute video game characters is a dead giveaway. "I'm Castiel. We talked on the phone."

"Nice to meet you, Cas. I'm the knight in shining armour," Dean says with a cheeky wink. It would seem that he's remembered how to flirt. If Dean wasn't staring so intensely at Castiel's face, he might have missed the way his pupils dilated ever so slightly. Flirtation  _received_.

"Yes, I got that," Castiel says, his eyes tracking up and down Dean's outfit. Dean tries not to let self-consciousness get the better of him. "I take it this is your friend's?"

"Yeah, sure is." He takes the phone from Castiel, sliding it into his pocket. He flexes his arms just a  _tad_ as he does it. Smooth, Winchester. "She's been leaving her stuff all over the place recently. Thanks for, y'know, not stealing it. Nice to know there's a good Samaritan walking these streets," he says, his voice low, and  _just_ husky enough for Castiel to take notice.

Castiel rubs his neck, his face turning rosy. "Well, I like to think anyone would have done the same thing. I suppose you have to get back to..." He gestures to Dean's outfit, his eyes are trekking the length of his body once again. "...to whatever it is you're dressed up for. A medieval fair?"

"Not quite. It's this geeky roleplay thing. Charlie," he pats the phone against his hip, "had to basically drag me along." A complete and utter  _lie_ , of course, but like hell he's letting slip his unconventional weekend hobbies to someone who's basically an eleven on the hotness scale. He needs to suss out if Castiel is a nerd, first and foremost,  _then_ he gets indoctrinated into the Moondoor shenanigans. "So, you know, I'm not  _really_ in a rush to get back. Do you like coffee, Cas?"

"Yes, very much," Cas says, glancing up at Dean through dark eyelashes.

"Awesome. Let me buy you something, but none of that _Starbucks_ crap," he says, gesturing to the offending building not ten feet away. "There's this nice cafe close by. I'm telling ya, Charlie would be  _mighty_ displeased if I didn't at least buy a coffee for the guy who rescued her phone."

Castiel bites his lip, hiding a smile. "Right, of course. Well, I don't have anything planned for the rest of the day. Lead the way."

\---

"Four hours, Dean." Sam glares at him, his expression stormy. Beside him, Kevin is sharpening his plastic sword as menacingly as possible. "You were gone for  _four hours_."

Dean shrugs with a careless grin. He runs his fingers through his messy hair, recalling the feel of Cas dragging his hands through it not thirty minutes ago. "Eh, you guys handled it just fine. What are ya worried about?"

"I'm freakin'  _exhausted,_ Dean. It's six o'clock! Kevin was supposed to be home by five."

"My mom's gonna kill me," Kevin says, his voice calm despite the murderous intent in his eyes. "I am going to be grounded for a week."

"Hey, you know, I get it. I messed up. But, you know what?" He holds out his forearm, showing off the numbers freshly inked into his skin with black marker. "I got the phone number for quite literally the sexiest guy I've ever seen in my life. And, you know, he and I may very well be walking down the aisle someday, adopting beautiful children together. If you think about it,  _your_ sacrifices have led to a bright, happy future for me. I won't be forgetting this any time soon. Think about the _good_ you've done here today, soldiers."

"Can I kill him now?" Kevin asks Sam, smiling serenely.

"Yeah, Kev. I'm not gonna stop you."

Just as Kevin's getting to his feet, however, the sound of girlish giggling interrupts them. The tent flap is pushed aside and Charlie stumbles in, her arm linked with an attractive girl with olive skin, long wavy hair, dressed in a soft white gown. There are a set of butterfly wings strapped to her back.

Charlie freezes at the sight of them, her laughter caught in her throat. "Uh...'sup?" She nods her head pointedly at the girl with her. "This is Gilda, we were just, uh, you know...gonna hang out. Maybe you guys could, y'know," she chuckles, gesturing pointedly toward the tent flap. "Maybe go hang outside, for like, an hour or two?"

"Charlie," Sam says, his face stony. "Are you telling me you've been gone all day, leaving me and Kevin in charge of  _all_ your duties, because you were canoodling with a pixie?"

"I prefer faerie," Gilda corrects with an innocuous smile. 

"Um, well, I mean..." Charlie shrugs, grinning awkwardly. "Y-yeah, sort of. I mean, not initially, this just kind of  _happened,_ you know how it is. Also, I think I lost my phone at some point..."

"Gotcha covered," Dean says, delivering the phone to her on his open palm. 

"Oh, thanks!" She snatches it up, shoving it down the front of her top. Charlie never did get around to sewing pockets into her Queen outfit. She spies the digits on Dean's forearm, and raises a brow. "Whoa, whose number is that?"

"His name's Cas," Dean says smugly. "Gotta date for Saturday night, no biggie."

"Ooooh, you're totally telling me about him later."

"Well, duh."

"Okay, I am done here," Kevin says, dumping his sword on the table in front of Sam. "You can all go to hell," he declares, and marches straight out of the tent.

They all turn to watch him go, and then they re-focus on Sam, who appears to have collapsed head first onto the table. He releases a loud, pitiful groan.

"Now, now, Sammy boy," Dean says, coming around to pat him sympathetically on the shoulder. "When you ever get lucky in love, I promise to bend over backwards to help. I'll be the best goddamn wingman you've ever seen." 

Sam just groans louder.

"Let it all out, big man," Dean says, rubbing his back. "Let it out."


End file.
